The Meaning of War
by Sephiran Lehran
Summary: Harry's been taught at home his entire life and is too old for his age. Now the people who've raised him his entire life are sending him to Hogwarts for the first time. Hermione is well known and well liked but she often feels like a fish out of water in a school full of immature teenagers. How will things change when they meet on the train at the beginning of sixth year?


**Author's Note: So I got the idea for this story from James Spookie's "What We're Fighting For," mainly of Harry being raised to be a super soldier and starting at Hogwarts in his sixth year, but if you're a fan of it don't be surprised to see similarities between the first chapter of that story and this one. However, everything after this is quite different, I assure you of that.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**Here and Now**

Lord Voldemort looked around in shock as the Order of the Phoenix and the constantly increasing number of Aurors and other Ministry officials prevented him and his Death Eaters from fleeing. This was supposed to be simple: break into the Ministry, get the prophecy, leave. It would have worked too if the damned Order hadn't shown up. The only thing Voldemort couldn't make sense of was how the Order knew about this in the first place. He knew that none of his Death Eaters would betray him like this. As he thought about it he noticed Albus Dumbledore several feet ahead of him, battling both Bellatrix and Dolohov.

Dumbledore! This entire thing was the old man's fault, from his fall almost fifteen years ago until now, and here was Voldemort's chance to finally finish him for good. He raised his wand, ready to use his signature spell, when he heard someone behind him.

"Now play nice Tom. You know it's unsportsmanlike to attack your opponent from behind." Voldemort's expression of shock quickly turned into one of rage and he turned to see who would dare call him by that name. He found himself staring into the green eyes of a boy who couldn't be more than fifteen. Despite his black dragon hide trench coat it was easy to tell that he was fairly muscular, though not overly bulky. He was quite tall for his age and his long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His handsome features were marred only by the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Voldemort knew who this boy was, even if he technically had never met him.

"Potter."

"That's right Tom. It's been awhile since we last met. If memory serves me correctly, you stole my parents from me that night."

"I remember it very well. My own curse rebounded off your forehead and hit me, leaving you with nothing but that scar and nearly killing me. I even remember your foolish parents, who stupidly tried to hold me off without their wands. Other than your lack of glasses, you look just like your father. I enjoyed killing him and I'm going to enjoy killing you too." Without another word, Voldemort sent a Killing Curse towards Harry, only for the teen to vanish at the last second. He reappeared to the right of where he was previously standing as the spell flew past him and cracked the wall. "You can Apparate Potter?"

"Is that what it's called?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance. "I only know how to do it; I have absolutely no idea what it's called." In a more serious tone and with an equally serious expression, he continued. "Your time is running out, Tom. Soon it'll be over for you. And I'm the one who's going to end it."

With a shriek of rage, Voldemort sent a spell towards Harry, who swatted it aside as if it was nothing and answered with a spell of his own. The two of them began trading and dodging spells. What Voldemort assumed would be yet another quick and easy kill for him quickly turned into one of the most difficult duels he had ever been in. Aside from the Killing Curse, which couldn't be blocked, Harry was constantly turning away all of Voldemort's spells and answering with almost equal power.

It completely surprised Voldemort that Harry displayed that level of skill at such a young age; it further astonished him when Harry, almost as if the boy could read his thoughts, told him, "I may not have Dumbledore's experience, but my power is almost equal to his, as you can see." The Dark Lord didn't know if Harry used Legilimency on him or if the boy could read his facial expression that easily but he immediately employed Occlumency nonetheless. This act gave him the answer to his question. "Hah, Occlumency won't help you now Tom. I've already found out what I wanted to know and at any rate, this duel is over." In a feat that would later be described as one of the most impressive bits of magic ever accomplished by a fifteen-year-old, Harry blocked another of Voldemort's spells with his wand and sent a powerful Knockback Jinx with his free hand. The Dark Lord was thrown back nearly thirty feet, shocking him more than anything else had that entire night. "Get out of here Tom. I know that you can't die today, if that was the case you'd have died fourteen years ago; but as I said earlier, your time is running out."

Realizing he was defeated, if only due to the immense numbers now against him and his Death Eaters, Voldemort stood up and yelled, "this isn't over Potter! I'm going to finish what I started all those years ago!" He randomly fired off another spell at the teen, which was easily batted away, before grabbing Bellatrix and disappearing into the Floo. With the Death Eaters defeated, the Order began the task of cleaning up what they could. Dumbledore was making his way over to Harry before the voice of Cornelius Fudge stopped him.

"What is the meaning of this Dumbledore?!"

"I told you last year he was back Cornelius," the older Wizard calmly responded. Fudge acted as though he hadn't heard him as he continued walking towards Dumbledore.

"Where do you and your squad get off thinking you could destroy-" The Minister's words caught in his throat and he stopped in his tracks when a spell hit the floor directly in front of him, causing it to crack.

"Stay away from Albus Dumbledore," Harry slowly told the Minister. He glared daggers at the older man the entire time he was looking at him. Fudge looked at the Aurors surrounding him, none of whom looked as though they wanted anything to do with Harry.

"I'd leave Mr. Potter alone if I were you Cornelius," Dumbledore said, smiling. Fudge's eyes widened.

"Mr. Potter? Harry Potter?" He looked ready to order the officials to arrest the teen before a new voice stopped him.

"Give it a rest Fudge. Just be thankful that was a warning shot. If Harry had meant to hit you, you'd be on your way to St. Mungo's right now."

"Black. Still no respect for authority I see."

"Still no respect for those who try to unfairly throw me into Azkaban," Sirius Black responded before turning to his godson. "You alright kid?" Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving Fudge. "Hey, forget about him; he's not going to do anything. Come here." Sirius put his arm around Harry's shoulders and led him away from the Minister.

"So he's really back then?" Fudge asked, after he finally tore his gaze away from Harry's retreating figure.

"I told you that a year ago Cornelius and you didn't want to believe me. Now that you've seen him with your own eyes I'm sure you're going to run to me for protection. I'll tell you right now that I have no desire to work with the Ministry and even less to help you keep your job. However, I know that we can't do this on our own so I'm more than willing to work with you. If you do accept my offer to work together though, I have some demands that **will** be met."

When they were a respectful distance away from Dumbledore and Fudge, Sirius turned to Harry and told him, "I'm proud of you kid. Proud and surprised, I'll admit it. I didn't expect your wandless magic to be so powerful. That Knockback Jinx was stronger than what a lot of people can do using their-"

"Hey Sirius, could you help me for a minute?"

"Sure Remus. I'll be right there. To be continued." Sirius smirked at his godson, who returned one of his own, before going to help his best friend Remus Lupin. As soon as Sirius was out of earshot, Harry heard a weak voice calling his name.

"Potter, Potter." Harry looked around and saw a Death Eater lying on the ground, clearly in too much pain to move. He warily drew closer to the injured man. "How does it feel to have met the man who killed your parents and know that you're too weak to avenge them? How does it feel knowing that soon you'll going your filthy Mudblood mother and your Muggle-loving father?"

The Death Eater started laughing, apparently sure that Harry wasn't a threat to him. His false sense of security didn't last long though; despite the noise that now filled the room, everyone heard Harry's cry of "Avada Kedavra." They all looked at the teen to see him with his head bowed before throwing it back and letting out a fearsome yell that shattered glass and cracked the walls. When he ran out of breath, Harry bowed his head again and began shaking furiously. He might have let loose another cry had Nymphadora Tonks not come rushing to his side and pulled him into a tight yet obviously loving embrace. To the rest of the Order it was akin to an older sister comforting a younger brother.

"You should leave Mr. Potter alone Cornelius," Dumbledore quietly told the Minister, noticing the look on his face.

"He just killed someone and I'm supposed to ignore it?" Dumbledore looked at Harry with a sad expression.

"Harry's been through more than most. It's understandable that he'll retaliate whenever someone who supports the man who killed his parents taunts him about their death."

"Are you sure that's what happened?" Fudge asked, his voice much softer now.

"I am. The same thing happened a few months ago. The only reason he didn't kill that one was because we were able to calm him down before he did. I think, given everything that he's been through and everything he did tonight, you can look the other way here Cornelius." Fudge nodded and turned back to Dumbledore, turning his back to the scene.

* * *

Hermione Granger was sitting on the Hogwarts Express in an empty compartment, randomly drawing as eleven o'clock drew closer. She had been at the station since eight that morning, as both of her parents had to be at work. She was actually glad to be there so early; hopefully she wouldn't have to share a compartment with anyone. Hermione didn't consider herself popular, but she was the only one who didn't. Everyone at Hogwarts knew she was and everyone except for the Slytherins liked her so apparently she was popular, at least in the eyes of the student body. She had a group of close friends that she often hung out with, especially when she wanted to unwind and act like a stupid teenager, but it was almost impossible to have an intelligent conversation with any of them when they were all together. She knew they all possessed some degree of intelligence from the alone time she spent with each of them, but it seemed to vanish whenever they were all with each other.

She brushed a strand of her purple and black hair out of her face and played with her new tongue ring as she contemplated the sketch she was currently working on. Her parents were shocked when she told them that she wanted to dye her hair purple with black highlights and they almost had a fit when she said she wanted her tongue pierced too. She fought with the two of them about it four over an hour before revealing that by the end of September she would be of age in the magical world and that she could, and would, do it herself. That deflated her parents' arguments quickly and they grudgingly gave her their permission. It was the first time she really rebelled and it scared them. She knew why they relented of course: they realized that she was growing up and this was their weak attempt at keeping her their little girl for as long as possible.

The problem was, she wasn't exactly little anymore. While she wasn't exactly an Amazon, she was tall for her age, though she suspected that she wouldn't get much taller. She liked to keep in shape and was very fit; she tended to show this off by wearing rather tight clothing, though she tried not to be too revealing. Her breasts, which had always been slow to catch up to the rest of her, had finally blossomed over the summer and were now quite full. She didn't mind that but she wasn't too comfortable with the attention she was suddenly getting. Her ass had always stood out and seemed to be in no rush to slow down. With her amber eyes and killer smile she was sought after by most of the guys, and even some of the girls, in Hogwarts.

"Hey Hermione, why don't come back here and sit with us?" a voice suddenly asked. Hermione looked up to see that Ginny Weasley had poked her head into the compartment. She liked the young redhead, she was her best friend after all, but she didn't want to put up with her brother at the moment.

"Thanks Ginny, but I think I'm just going to stay here for now."

"Suit yourself," the redhead responded, shrugging. That was one thing Hermione especially loved about her friends: they understood her desire to have time to herself and they didn't get offended by it. "Oh and by the way, I know that Ron can be a git sometimes but I'll talk to him about it for you." The two girls shared a smile before Ginny retreated. While Hermione actually did like Ron, she considered him her best male friend, she didn't want him leering at her again. When she had seen him at Diagon Alley after getting her hair dyed and her tongue pierced, not to mention her new bra size, he was practically drooling over her; it had made her uncomfortable and she had no reason to believe he wouldn't do the same now.

She shrugged her shoulders and was about to go back to her drawing when the whistle sounded and the train began to move. She had been so absorbed in her work that she didn't realize it was time to leave. Ever since her youth, Hermione had been fascinated with art in all its forms-book, paintings and drawings, and music. She had a deep appreciation for them from a young age and began learning to play the piano when she was seven. At age thirteen she decided that merely reading books and admiring paintings weren't cutting it for her anymore and she began to create her own art. At first she did it only for her own benefit, but when people started noticing her drawings, and later her writing, they wanted to be able to enjoy it at their leisure. By the end of her fourth year, her original works could be found all over the school.

She was glad that the Gryffindor prefects didn't have to patrol the train until later because she really wanted to finish her current drawing. She was trying to draw a romantic couple, for reasons that she wasn't quite sure of, but she was having trouble. The background and lower bodies of the two people were drawn up, that was the easy part after all, but she couldn't decide what she wanted them to look like. Nothing she ended up with looked right to her. She growled in frustration when she heard a light knock and another voice from the door.

"Sorry to interrupt but do you mind if I sit with you? Everywhere else is full." Hermione looked up and found herself staring into the most piercing green eye she had ever seen. The boy it belonged to looked to be quite handsome, despite the fact that his long black hair covered half of his face. What she could see of him though looked calm and irritated and she guessed that "everywhere else is full" really meant that no one else would let him sit with them. Though Hermione still wanted to be by herself she couldn't justify not letting him sit with her; besides she had a weird feeling that this boy wasn't juvenile like almost everyone else would be.

"Sure," she responded, indicating the seat opposite of her. The boy smiled and levitated his trunk to the luggage bin before taking the offered seat. Now that he was in front of her, she was able to get a better look at him. His black dragon hide trench coat fell to the middle of his calves. The only other thing of significant interest he was wearing were his black boots, which almost appeared to be made of dragon hide; everything else seemed to be standard wear for Hogwarts. The ends of his hair were white and the right side of his bottom lip was pierced.

"Do you have a mirror on you by chance?" the boy asked soon after sitting down. Hermione shook her head. "Piece of glass?" When she shook her head he sighed. "Alright, can I borrow one of those book then?" She randomly handed him one of the books sitting beside her and was shocked when she transfigured it into a mirror without a single word. He began to look over his appearance, though Hermione didn't know why; he already looked great in her opinion.

"What're you looking at?" she suddenly asked, unable to contain herself anymore.

"I'm not so sure these white tips work," he responded without looking up. "I thought it was a good idea when I did it this morning but it doesn't seem to suit me. What do you think?" Hermione was taken aback that this boy she knew nothing about was asking for her opinion on his appearance.

"Erm." Without waiting for an actual answer, he waved his hand and his hair had red tips in place of white. He changed the mirror into a book again and handed it back to her.

"I'm Harry Potter by the way." Hermione busted out laughing at that point, certain that this boy was joking with her. When she saw him looking at her with a raised eyebrow she fought to get herself under control.

"Are you serious?" In response Harry pulled the curtain of hair that was covering his face behind his ear, revealing his trademark lightning-bolt scar. Though few people had ever actually met him it seemed that everyone knew about the mark Voldemort had left on him all those years ago. "Wow. Oh I'm Hermione Granger. Sorry about that; I thought my friend Ron was playing a joke on me."

"He can't be a very good friend then if he plays tricks like that."

"It's just his sense of humor. I've changed over the summer and he'd likely think it would be funny for someone as famous as you to suddenly appear and sit with me."

"Hmm. Well at any rate, it's nice to meet you Hermione Granger. I hope we see more of each other after this." He smiled at her. Now that his hair was out of his face, Hermione had to admit that Harry was, there was really no other word for it, hot. He was extremely attractive (something that even Hermione had to admit) and the fang earring in his left ear only helped add to his "bad-ass, tough guy" appearance. She quickly shook her head to regain her composure.

"It's nice to meet you too. And it'd be nice to see more of you. I mean to see you more. I mean to see you more often. Stop talking Hermione." Harry smirked and ran his tongue over his lip ring, an action that had become a habit after he had gotten it a few months ago. He was used to girls stumbling over their words around him. To save Hermione from further embarrassment, he pulled three leather strips from his pocket, made a show of choosing the right one, and used it to tie his hair into a half ponytail with a twirl of his wand.

"You're good," Hermione told him, astonished. "How are you able to do silent spellcasting? We're supposed to learn that this year."

"Between my godfather, Professor Dumbledore, and Moody I had good teachers."

"Moody? Alastor Moody, the retired Auror that taught us a couple years ago? Or supposedly taught us at least."

"One and the same, though he doesn't like to discuss the year he spent in that trunk. Moody was my main teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dumbledore mainly taught me Transfiguration and Sirius, my godfather, taught me everything else."

"Dumbledore himself taught you?"

"Yeah, he used to be the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts before he became the Headmaster. He helped teach me to do wandless magic too, though that was mainly because Sirius pushed him to do it."

"You can do wandless magic too? I noticed you didn't use your wand to change your hair color but I didn't really pay much attention to it. I didn't know that could be taught though."

"Being able to channel it is a learned skill, just like silent casting. The difference is that only those who are quite powerful can do magic without a wand whereas anyone with enough patience and devotion and learn to do magic silently. A master of wandless magic doesn't need to use a wand at all actually, like Andros the Invincible."

"So what can you do without a wand?"

"All but the most powerful and complicated of spells. Things like the Fidelus Charm."

"Is there a difference in power when you do spells without a wand?" Harry shook his head.

"There used to be a big difference back when I first started. Now all of my spells are as powerful without a wand as they are when I do use my wand. It took quite a bit of practice to get that far though."

"I bet. So you've been homeschooled your entire life then?" Harry nodded this time. "Did you have to take the O.W.L.s too?" He nodded again. "What'd you get?" She realized she was a little too eager when his green eyes gave her a hard look, like he was sizing her up. It made her feel very vulnerable.

"You really like school don't you?" It was a statement more than a question, one that made her realize she may have overstepped her bounds with the questions.

"I-I'm sorry," she managed to say as she shrunk back into her seat. Hermione wasn't sure why but she really wanted Harry to be in her life after the ride was over. "I ask too many questions sometimes. You don't-"

"Relax," he responded, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. "It was just an observation. I like it actually; it gives me hope." Hermione perked up when he said that. "I thought that most people here would be stupid, immature teenagers. Hopefully, if you're any indication, it won't be as bad as I thought. To answer your question though, I got an 'O' on everything except for Astronomy and History of Magic. Sirius didn't spend as much time on them; I still got an 'E' on both of them, so I'm pleased. Can I ask what you got?"

"I got an 'O' in everything except for Defense Against the Dark Arts; I only managed an 'E' in that one and it slightly disappointed me honestly. Anyway, what subjects did you study?" She listened as Harry listed off the various subjects he had to study growing up. It involved most of the subjects at Hogwarts, including Ancient Runes. "We'll probably have most of the same classes then. Are you going to continue with Ancient Runes?"

"Yeah I think so. I know I won't need it for my career but it's useful and I find it fascinating."

"What are you planning to go into?"

"I want to be an Auror. That's one of the reasons I'm going to Hogwarts now. Sirius decided that the teachers here could help me better than he could now that things are getting more difficult. What do you want to do when you get out of school?"

"Well I want to work in the Ministry but I'm not sure what exactly I want to do though."

"Didn't I tell you that they'll never hire a Mudblood like you at the Ministry, Granger?" someone asked. Harry and Hermione looked up to see a blonde boy standing in the doorway, sneering at her and flanked by two other boys who were built like gorillas.

"Shove off Malfoy." Hermione was enjoying herself with Harry and she didn't want to put up with the bane of her existence at the moment. She'd make sure to pay him back later though.

"You don't get to tell me what to do Granger. I'll stay here as long as I want."

"She told you to leave so I suggest you do so," Harry suddenly told him. "She clearly doesn't like you, and I can't imagine why, I already don't like you. So why don't you fuck off?" Malfoy stood gaping at Harry, momentarily stunned before he regained his composure.

"Who the hell do you think you are? No one can talk to me like that. I'm-"

"I know who you are. You're Draco Malfoy, spawn of Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand. You know, you should really thank Dumbledore for saving your dad's life when you get the chance. See he got to him before I did at the Ministry. If I had dueled him, I would've most likely killed him." Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he tried to determine who Harry was. They grew big with surprise and his eyebrows shot up when he saw Harry's scar.

"You're-"

"Yes I am Malfoy." Harry stood up and walked over to the door. "Now I suggest you leave while you can still walk out of here on your own two feet." Malfoy stumbled into the aisle way and rushed back towards the compartment he shared with his friends, giving Harry a look of what could only be called fear.

"I don't think I've ever seen Malfoy scared of anyone," Hermione said as Harry sat back down. "Hopefully that upstart Slytherin will shut up now."

"He's in Slytherin?" Harry asked, clearly interested.

"Yeah. The Slytherins don't like me but they're the only ones that don't. Everyone else is quite fond of me. I assume you know about the Houses?"

"Dumbledore and Sirius told me about them, though I think Dumbledore's explanation was probably less biased. So are you one of those incredibly popular girls who tries to fit in with everyone?" A slight blush covered Hermione's face.

"I don't think I'm popular. Everyone knows me and everyone but the Slytherins like me, I won't deny either one of those, but I don't consider myself popular. I have a group of close friends that I hang around with and I'm friendly to everyone, but I don't consider everyone a friend." Harry gave her another hard look, apparently trying to decide if she was telling the truth.

"Hmm. What House are you in?"

"Gryffindor." She was glad for the sudden change in subject, something that Harry didn't fail to notice.

""Sirius and my parents were in Gryffindor. Do you like it?"

"I do, very much so. Gryffindor is really like a family. We all help each other out." Before Hermione could continue praising her House, Ginny barged in and sat down beside her, not even throwing a look in Harry's direction.

"Hey I think I got Ron to grow up a little if you want to come sit with us now."

"That's alright Ginny, I think I'll stay here," Hermione responded, giving Harry an apologetic look that caused Ginny to notice him for the first time.

"Hi," he said calmly. Ginny's mouth opened and closed as she tried to form words.

"Hi," she finally managed to say. "Sorry, but I need to go. Uh, excuse me." Without another word she darted off, leaving a thoroughly confused Harry.

"What the hell was that about?"

"She thinks you're hot," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes.

"Well so do you," he responded casually. "A lot of girls do but none of them have ever acted like that. Most of them just stare and stumble over their words like you did earlier." Hermione stared at him, though thankfully he was still staring at the door and didn't notice. She wasn't sure how to address so she decided to put it off for the time being.

"Well that's Ginny for you," she began, deciding to focus on that instead. "She's a very physical person. When she talks to any guy she thinks is hot her brain completely shuts down until she's comfortable around them. You just saw the end result. She goes through a lot of boyfriends."

"Really?" Harry asked, his head snapping towards her. She nodded, suddenly worried that he might like girls like that, though she wasn't sure why it bothered her at all. "So she's a slut?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Hermione responded, slightly scandalized by his choice of words. "She just doesn't really have any substance about her."

"Hmm. Well at any rate, I'm glad she's not the type of girl I go for. That'd be somewhat awkward."

"So what's your type then?" It shocked Hermione that she would ask that question of someone she barely knew but she did her best to remain stoic. She didn't want him to think that she had no substance either.

"Do you really want me to answer that? You're embarrassed just by asking." She was blindsided again by his level of perception but was determined to prove to him, as well as herself, that she was braver than he thought. She nodded, not chancing that she might say no. Harry regarded her yet again before pressing on.

"Hmm, well honestly, you're my type. I like the edgy, punk, especially your hair. You're mature for your age and very intelligent, yet you're prone to the same weaknesses as everyone our age. You're artistic, as indicated by that drawing you've been working on since I sat down and that book beside you that you most likely wrote over the summer, and, based on what I've seen so far, we have similar personalities. You stand up for yourself and don't let anyone fuck with you, you don't change who you are to fit in, you like being with people but you also want time to yourself, you're laidback but you know when to be serious, you like to have fun, and you have a great desire to prove yourself. Most importantly, you care a person's personality more than who they are, since you like Harry Potter and not the Boy-Who-Lived. That's one of the advantages you have of being Muggle-born and it's one of the reasons I'm glad I grew up with them." Hermione had been blushing the entire time Harry had been talking but his last sentence piqued her interest.

"You grew up with Muggles?"

"Yeah. Sirius and Dumbledore thought it'd be best if I grew up with kids who didn't know me as anything other than just Harry." The conversation was momentarily cut short by the arrival of the lunch trolley. Both of them bought several sandwiches, as they hadn't realized before just how hungry they were, and fell into a comfortable silence as they ate. Hermione finished before Harry and took the time to return to her drawing. "That was good," Harry said, causing her to look up at him.

"Good. Can I ask you another question?" He nodded once, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "How did you know I'm Muggle-born?"

"You weren't confused when I said you look like a punk," he responded simply, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. "People who grew up in the magical world wouldn't know what I was talking about and most kids who have at least one magical parent tend to grow up in the magic world. My friend Adam went through a punk phase; it was fucking hilarious trying to explain it to Sirius. Anyway, aside from that, you're actually sketching, using draw pencils. Witches and Wizards don't usually draw and I don't think most of them even know what a pencil is." Hermione was again astounded at his level of perception.

"How are you so perceptive? I've never known anyone who could observe things like you do."

"Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, and Remus instilled it in me."

"Remus Lupin? Our Defense teacher three years ago?"

"That's him. Remus is the reason that Sirius taught me, well, anything really. Sirius likes to have fun a lot, sometimes too much actually, and Remus helped keep him on track."

"Ah, ok. So um, other than the obvious, what makes you so sure that I think you're hot?"

"You keep staring at me for one thing. It also irked you that I might be interested in your friend and you were a bit too eager when you asked me what kind of girl I like. If any of those left any doubt, the fact that you drew the two of us in that picture is a dead giveaway." Hermione looked down at her finished drawing and found, much to her horror, that she had absentmindedly drawn her and Harry intimately looking at each other with his hands keeping hers closed around something on the end of her necklace.

"Shit! I-I-I'm s-I'm sorry. I'll just...get rid of this."

"No keep it. It's really good and who knows, it might actually happen."

"Hmph. What makes you so confident about that?"

"You're attracted to me," Harry said-matter-of-factly, "and I came right out and told you that you're the type of girl I go for, which is a really big hint to you. A relationship is made up of much more than mere attraction of course, but it's a start." Hermione just looked at him in fascination. She had never met anyone like him before.

He was straightforward, open, and honest, almost brutally so. He confident and sure of himself but not arrogant or cocky. He knew that he was attractive and powerful but he didn't brag about it to anyone who would listen, like Malfoy would; when he brought them up, he was merely stating a fact. He was mature and incredibly intelligent, possibly as intelligent as she was. Yet for all his virtues, he wasn't without faults of his own. His ability to instill fear into someone with a look, as he had done with Malfoy, would most likely end up being problematic and his bluntness wasn't something you'd expect of someone who was sixteen; that was sure to cause an unpleasant shock to a place where most people were his age or younger and might even cause him to be alienated at first. He acted like some in their thirties as opposed to a teenager; he was definitely out of his element here and most likely scared and confused, though he would never let it show. Hermione surmised that until he learned how to talk and act around his classmates, he would probably be aggressive and quick to lash out.

After that they turned to more mundane topics, as both were curious about the other's life now that the tension had at least been accepted for the time being. The rest of the train ride was uneventful, with the exception of a group of girls congregating outside the compartment to look at Harry a few times. Hermione smiled inwardly, knowing that none of them were Harry's type. At least she wouldn't have to worry about competing with anyone. She knew she had a chance with him, to say the least, if she decided to pursue it that is, but she had a habit of being too nice for her own good. She immediately chastised herself for thinking this way about a boy she had just met. Harry was the only person she knew who could make her feel like an intelligent, mature adult and a ridiculous, love struck teenager at the same time. She wondered if she would ever get over that feeling. Only time would tell for sure, but she already knew that this year was going to be an interesting one.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know that Harry and Hermione were forward with each other but that's going to be explained in chapter 3.**


End file.
